LISTEN TO THE STILL, SMALL VOICE
One hour into an eight-hour auto trip we stopped for fuel. I checked the oil; we needed a quart. As I was reaching onto the convenience store shelf for the oil a thought shot through my mind that I ought to buy a couple more quarts just in case, but I talked myself out of it, reasoning that it had been a couple thousand miles since I’d added oil and I was going to be changing it soon and I could buy it for less money elsewhere, etc. So our journey continued. The ride was pleasant. It was 9 p.m. when we purchased the fuel and by 2 a.m. my wife and children were fast asleep. In the quiet of the early morning my heart had begun to keep time with the humming of the tires on the road. Then, suddenly, a darkly clad figure appeared in the breakdown lane waving his arms in a typical “Hey-please-stop- and-help-fashion.”…
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